ALTHOUGH THEIRS INSPIRED the most gnashing of teeth, Liz Phair and Jewel didn't have the monopoly on fan-alienating makeovers last year. That spring, the East Bay punks in American Steel caused quite a stir of their own when – after seven years, three albums, and one California Music Award nomination – they reinvented themselves seemingly overnight as a power pop combo that was practically unrecognizable to anyone familiar with their former incarnation. Rechristened as Communiqué, the group released the six-song EP A Crescent Honeymoon and issued a press release that didn't even mention American Steel. If disgruntled punk fans felt the band had abandoned its past, well, the feeling wasn't entirely unfounded.

But as proved at the record-release show for its first full-length, Poison Arrows (Lookout! Records), change can be good – downright exhilarating, actually. Taking 330 Ritch's Popscene stage at 11:30 p.m., the Oakland quintet launched into its propulsive, infinitely danceable first single, "Perfect Weapon," an ode to sweating between the sheets that perfectly distills everything the band does best: soaring melodies, anthemic choruses, guitarist-vocalist Rory Henderson's faux-Brit croon, and – thanks to Cory Gowan, the group's only non-American Steel alum – cascading, whirligig keyboards straight out of the '80s. By the end of "Perfect Weapon," only the crankiest punk purists would've begrudged the band for dissolving American Steel.

Impressively, the rest of the 25-minute show, including the EP's "Cross Your Heart" and two-thirds of Poison Arrows, never lost momentum. Songs like "The Best Lies" and the surging "Dagger Vision" were as explosive as on record, while the midtempo, Starsailor-esque "Ouija Me" and set-closing "My Bay" took on greater urgency. In fact, the band – which also includes bassist John Peck, guitarist Ryan Massey, and drummer Jamie Kissinger – took only one breather, pausing briefly to welcome everyone to the show. "Is everyone well?" Henderson asked. "We just wanted to have a little party for our friends and family 'cause we're proud of our new album."

They damn well should be. Bubbling over with more hooks and should-be hits than any local record in recent memory, Poison Arrows deserves to – and, if the band's well-received performance at Live 105's BFD festival earlier this month is any indication, very well might – make Communiqué the Bay Area's breakout act of 2004. And not just because the album dovetails nicely with the still-popular '80s revival: the band may treat its music like a giddy nostalgia trip, lifting liberally from '00s Britpop, '90s punk, and especially '80s synth pop, but it mercifully forgoes tired, trendy irony in favor of unabashed earnestness. As a result, you'd be hard-pressed to find a local pop band as wholly enjoyable as Communiqué.

You'd also be hard-pressed to find one as deceptively carefree. Given the group's abundance of seemingly hedonistic songs about sex and drugs, it's easy to overlook that Communiqué is ultimately one hell of a dark band. Beneath the pop polish of songs like "Rattling Bones" and "Death Rattle Dance," Henderson tells surprisingly affecting stories of hearts gone dead, staged deaths, and secrets taken to the grave. This appreciation for love's fleeting nature gives the songs emotional resonance and, perhaps coincidentally, doubles as a retort to the punks crying foul at Communiqué's pop makeover. "Nothing last forever ever / Did you expect it to?" Henderson sang on "Black Curses," one of the show's highlights. "Why would I want it to?" Communiqué perform July 12, 7 p.m., 12 Galaxies, 2565 Mission, S.F. $10. (415) 970-9777. (Jimmy Draper)